


I can't get the balance right

by Wheat From Chaff (wheatfromchaff)



Series: everybody works [4]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Atlas CEO Rhys, Domestic, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, world's okayest dad jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheatfromchaff/pseuds/Wheat%20From%20Chaff
Summary: Rhys told him he'd send him a few things to look over that night, and that he'd better come in tomorrow morning prepared."How else would I come in?" Tim asked as he shouldered on his coat."Unshaven and in someone else's suit? Your breath still warm with last night's whiskey?" Rhys shrugged. "How should I know?""You understand my niece is nine, right? That all we're going to do is talk about her latest fixation and watch videos on YouTube? She's not much of a whiskey drinker."Tim takes an entire week of half-days to babysit Angel. Rhys tags along for a trip to the aquarium.





	I can't get the balance right

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Rednaelo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rednaelo/pseuds/Rednaelo) for betaing and generally being very helpful. <3
> 
> Title's from The National's "Don't Swallow the Cap".

Rhys actually looked up from his work. Tim could count on one hand the number of times a request of his actually earned that response when Rhys was deep in his latest project.

"Time off?" Rhys repeated.

Buried deep inside of the basement of Tim’s soul, there was a perpetually 16-year-old boy who still sighed and rolled his eyes. Outside, Tim kept his expression easy, open, professional.

"It's where you don't work," Tim explained. "Popular in a lot of cultures around the world. You might've heard of it during your travels."

"There's no need to be snide," Rhys said with a frown. "It's just... you've never asked for it before."

God, he hated that Rhys was partially right (there were always reasons to be snide). One solid year of sitting in that office, answering emails, at Rhys' beck and call, and Tim just let himself work and work and work.

"I'm overdue," Tim said. "Anyway, it's not like I’m taking a month-long vacation. I’m only asking for half-days and only for one week."

"Why?" Rhys asked.

"Why the half-days or why the request? You understand I'm not obligated to answer either question."

Rhys' frown pulled at his the lines around his mouth, like the inverse of his charming dimples. He fiddled with his stylus. He looked down at his screens.

"Is this something to do with your new... friend?"

Marco. Tim's new 'friend' he'd been seeing for the last two months. They hadn't talked about it, but somehow Rhys had seen Tim texting and put two and two together. He got fidgety every time Tim pulled out his phone now, demanding Tim's immediate attention, like a toddler throwing toys across the room to distract his parents from the new baby. It would be adorable if Rhys were actually three years old and not pushing 30. Tim had started answering texts only when he was out of Rhys' view.

"If you must know, I'm babysitting Angel. Her nanny's taken the week off and I told Jack I could watch her after school."

Jack had been skeptical Tim would actually ask for the time off. He figured Tim came to heel every time Rhys so much as snapped his fingers. He actually said that right to his only brother's reddening face.

"It's just Angel?" Rhys relaxed. "That's fine, then. From 2pm, you said?" He called up their shared calendar and started tapping in new entries. "We've got that dinner meeting on the 16th at 7pm, but I'll get it pushed back. How long do you need to stay with her?"

"Uh." Tim tried to keep the obvious surprise off his face. He hadn't expected it to be this easy. "It'll depend on the day, and what Jack's schedule might be. I think to be safe, we should just assume I won’t come back to work in the evenings."

Rhys didn't look pleased about that, but he made the proper adjustments. "There." He tapped the screen, doubling its size. "One week of free afternoons, all yours."

Tim scanned the calendar like he expected Rhys to have hidden something, forgotten something. But there was nothing except for a line of green blocks, from 2pm onwards on each day, showing Tim's new-found freedom. He really didn't expect it to be this easy.

"Great," Tim said, still a little stunned. "Thank you."

Rhys nodded, smiling benevolently. A kind boss who'd done his good deed for the day.

It's _just_ Angel, Rhys had said. What if it had been for Marco? Tim retook his seat behind his desk. What would Rhys have done?

It didn't matter, Tim told himself firmly. He smothered the thought before it could spawn any more follow-up questions. No answers would satisfy him, anyway.

* * *

Tim called that night to confirm his availability. Angel was ecstatic.

" _We can go to the zoo! Or the science centre! Ohhh, let's do both! Did you see the new exhibit about the bodies? Sliced thin like lunch meat? You can see all the veins and they're like wires, Uncle Tim! Blue and red and white and tendons and muscles and the zoo has baby pandas but I heard the line-up takes FOREVER…"_

Tim let her talk as he poured himself a small measure of Irish whiskey, mm-hmming at the appropriate intervals to let her know he was still on the line. Thing One glared at him from his armchair, lured out from his hidey-hole by the sound of a tinny voice on the other side of a phone line, something that always agitated him.

He heard Jack's voice in the background. _"It's not a vacation, Angel. You'll still have homework."_

 _"I know that, dad,_ " Angel said, voice sharp and heavy with exasperation.

Jack said something about watching her tone. Tim winced, his heart giving a weak pump of old anxiety at the sound of his voice.

"If you get your homework done, I don't see why we can't go out to the zoo one day," Tim said as he stepped carefully around Thing Two, who had passed out in the remains of his latest stuffed toy.

 _"Yeah, exactly!"_ Angel clucked her tongue, sighed. "See _, dad?"_

"Hey, Angel, honey, can I talk to your dad real quick?" Tim said, his voice a little higher than normal.

There was another round of muted commotion. Angel sounded like a bored, frustrated pre-teen as she handed the phone off. Jack sounded... controlled. Tim heard her quick steps fading away as she ran off, deeper into their house.

Both men waited for the sound to fade before they started speaking.

"Yikes," Tim said.

 _"Don't even start,"_ Jack said.

"How long has she been like this? Last time we spoke, she was—" Tim stopped, because there were a lot of ways to finish that sentence. Last time they spoke, she had a little girl’s voice, a little girl’s giggle, and she was always giggling at her silly family. Last time they spoke, she and Jack were best friends, partners in crime, two members of the same team against the rest of the world.

How long had it been? Didn't he talk to Angel at least once a week? Tim missed her terribly otherwise. He rubbed at his forehead.

 _"You don't have to tell me. I don't know where this is all coming from. It's like she turned into a teenager overnight. Everything's an argument now. I went from being her dad to being her fucking warden. I thought I had a few more years to go."_ To anyone else, Jack would just sound angry, frustrated. Tim could hear everything underneath that, the frequencies too sensitive for other people's ears.

"Maybe it's just a phase," Tim suggested.

_"Of course it's a phase. It's a phase that'll last ten years, if I'm lucky."_

"It won't be that bad," Tim said, but what did he know? He'd never raised a nine-year-old girl before. Neither had Jack, but somehow that didn't matter. Jack never admitted ignorance about anything in his life. He'd spent most of Angel's gestation reading every parenting book he could get his hands on, even the ones that contradicted the other ones.

" _Never mind. It's just the new normal."_ He sounded tired.

Tim wanted to make this better, an old instinct that he could never quite shake when it came to Jack, but he couldn't think of anything good to say. The thought that Angel might not like her dad anymore... it made him indescribably sad.

" _So_." Jack's voice jolted him from his thoughts. _"You actually asked him."_

"I told you I would," Tim said, grateful for the shift in conversation.

_"I didn't think the little prick would actually loosen the collar for a week."_

"Loosen the...?" With no one to see him, Tim felt free to indulge his inner 16-year-old. "For Christ's sake, he's just my boss."

 _"Uh huh._ " He could picture the punchable look on Jack's plastic face. " _Does he make you call him that when he's got you over the desk?"_

"Oh, fuck off." It was too easy, the bait and the rise it got out of him. Jack had known Tim their entire lives. He knew every button, every short-cut to Tim's temper, every way under his skin. Tim's face burned.

" _Or maybe I've got it backwards."_

"For the last time, Jack: nobody is fucking anybody in that office."

" _Wrong_ ," Jack sang. _"Even if you keep your nerdy suit on all day, you're definitely getting fucked in that office. When was the last time you asked for time off again?"_

Tim didn't answer. Jack already knew.

_"I keep seeing your dumb face in Page Six. 'Handsome Twin Escorts Leggy Moron to Opera'. It's getting embarrassing, you know. I keep getting calls."_

"They don't call me your twin in the headlines, Jack," Tim said. "Anyway, we haven't gone to the opera in months."

" _The fucking philharmonic then. Whatever stupid event he drags you to in order to make himself look cultured and interesting. You should tell your boss he's not going to find a personality at the Met any time soon."_

"Jack, I'm not telling him—"

" _Oh, I saw that tacky thing he wore to that new French place everyone won't shut up about. Does he realise there are other cuts available? Not everything has to be Italian. You should tell him—"_

"Hey, Jack, remember that thing we talked about when I took this job? The thing where I'm not going to pass notes during study hall for you two? You want to insult him, you can send him an email like the rest."

" _Trust me. I remember our talk_ ," Jack said, his voice lowering.

Tim did too, although he'd gotten a little drunk before he’d worked up the courage to make the call. Jack had already known, of course. He'd been waiting for Tim to phone. The conversation had gone on for a while. Jack had a lot to say under normal circumstances, but his only family going to work for the enemy had jostled unknown internal reserves and Tim had ended up on the line for almost three solid hours.

" _Anyway, I haven't had time to hack my way through Atlas' new firewall. Did you know your boss has me blocked? How's that remotely professional?"_

"I saw what you put in his inbox, Jack," Tim said warily.

_"Just some nice, fun pictures that I thought might bring a smile to his stupid face."_

Tim did not reply to that. It was best not to engage.

" _You know what has a great benefits package, and offers its employees ample time off? Hyperion."_

"So, I'll pick Angel up starting Monday? Did you put my name and info down on the school's approval list?"

 _"I told them to look for the guy who looks and sounds just like me,_ " Jack said.

"Put my name down. I'll fax them a copy of my driver's license tomorrow morning."

_"Fax. Christ, Timmy. Why don't you just send them a carrier pigeon?"_

"Goodbye, Jack. Give Angel my love."

Tim expected to hear Jack grumble, or snicker, or any of his usual obnoxious send-offs. He got silence instead.

"Jack?"

_"Nothing. It's nothing. I'll tell her. I know she's been lookin' forward to this."_

Jack knew Tim better than anyone else, but it was a two-way street. While Jack learned how best to anger and annoy his twin, Tim turned his attentions to finer details. He could read Jack's moods in the inflection of his voice, in the tightness around his eyes and mouth, the little movements of his fingers, the muscles on his face. Even cut off from all the physical tells, Tim could still read his brother.

"I've been looking forward to it too," Tim said. Words of comfort wouldn't go far right now. Jack didn't need to hear everything would be fine. He wouldn't listen. "Goodnight, Jack."

" _Yeah_." He hung up.

* * *

 _Watch your tone._ Tim wasn't proud of what those words could do to him, still.

He dreamed of an old house that smelled like cheap cigarettes and spilled beer, with newspapers piled high, tall as the columns in the Parthenon. A small house, but the doors didn't lead where they should, and Tim ended up in the wrong rooms. He only wanted to find his bed, he wanted to burrow to safety, but he ended up in the kitchen, where the yellow fly paper hung like swollen tongues, peppered with fat, black beads, where the oven door lay flat, open and the dishes sat in sticky piles in the sink, on the counter.

He turned around and ended up hitting his knee against the edge of the thread-bare couch, because now he was in the living room, and the faded wallpaper bulged and peeled, beaded yellow glue on the wood, a bristling ashtray on the coffee table, and another on the side table, right by a grime-covered remote with fat buttons for the hard of seeing. You could hear the TV blaring in every room. The only thing louder was her voice.

Another room, another wrong turn, now stuck in the old office, her dead husband's, where the heavy curtains were drawn tight, and the bookshelves sagged under the weight of leather-bound books, a dust-covered desk like a marble tomb in the centre of the room, and the air was thick with twisting dust motes, with the smell of rotting paper, and cigars like the old man had never left. Jack used to tell Tim this place was haunted, and laugh at him when he cried.

The door whispered shut behind him. Tim didn't even turn. He pressed both hands over his mouth and held his breath.

_You'd better watch the tone you take with me, boy._

Tim woke up like he'd been shaken awake. He tossed his arm out to the other side of the bed, but there was no one there, of course.

* * *

The first day went smoothly, although Tim half-expected something to go wrong. Maybe Jack would've put Tim down as a celebrity look-alike trying to kidnap his only child and heir to his fortune. Maybe Rhys would've 'forgotten' he'd agreed to give him the time and tried to seal him inside the office until they could talk it out.

He worried in vain. Rhys told him he'd send him a few things to look over that night, and that he'd better come in tomorrow morning prepared.

"How else would I come in?" Tim asked as he shouldered on his coat.

"Unshaven and in someone else's suit? Your breath still warm with last night's whiskey?" Rhys shrugged. "How should I know?"

"You understand my niece is nine, right? That all we're going to do is talk about her latest fixation and watch videos on YouTube? She's not much of a whiskey drinker."

"Me neither," Rhys said, wrinkling his nose.

"I'll come fully shaved, in my own clothes, ready for every pointless meeting you've got scheduled tomorrow," Tim said. Rhys looked at him suspiciously. "My breath won't smell of anything but Colgate."

"That's a lie. You always drink your coffee in the elevator," Rhys said.

"Goodbye, Rhys."

Tim’s name was even on the school’s pick-up list. Angel practically sprinted to his rental. She threw her arms around him, squealing happily when he lifted her up, which wasn't as easy as he remembered.

"Geez, you've gotten big," he said.

"I know! I'm almost four feet tall." She bounced on her heels.

"Come on, let's get moving. How much homework have you got?" Tim opened the passenger side door of his rental.

"Some math and I gotta read a few chapters of my book. Have you ever read _The Hobbit_? It's _Lord of the Rings_ but shorter and it's for kids."

She recounted the plot of _The Hobbit_ as Tim's phone resumed syncing with the car. He buckled himself in as the dashboard lit up, the little electric engine starting with barely a sound.

"Have you ever read it?" she asked as the car waited for its right of way.

"Sure did, when I was around your age," Tim said. "I liked the dwarves. I remember not liking Bilbo, much."

It'd been more than 20 years since he'd sat in a smelly chair at the public library, reading until the place shut down, but he could still clearly recall the anger he'd felt over Bilbo's cowardice. If he'd had a ring that made him invisible, Tim would have done a lot more with it.

Then again, thinking back on it as an adult, he couldn't help but wonder if nine-year-old Tim Lawrence would have done anything with the One Ring except hide.

"Dad thinks it's a book for nerds," Angel said as the car pulled into traffic.

"That's the exact opinion he had back then, too," Tim said.

"He thinks I should focus my school time on engineering and machinery." She kicked her feet against the faux-leather seats, the pink and blue lights in her heels flashing with the movement. "I like that stuff, but it's not everything I like. He says I should buckle down early."

"Your dad said that?" Tim asked, disbelieving.

Angel scoffed. "It's so stupid. I bet he did whatever he wanted when he was a kid."

Tim kept his hands on the wheel out of habit. He knew Jack hadn't told Angel a thing about their childhood, a decision Tim actually agreed with.

"How are things going between you and your dad?" Tim asked.

Angel actually rolled her eyes. Tim's heart sank.

"It's fine, he's just so annoying," she said. Tim waited for more, but she had nothing else coming. He tapped his fingers against the wheel and watched the traffic as they made their way towards the Golden Springs gated community.

What was at the heart of this sudden falling out? Angel was growing up, but could that be it? Tim could remember how it felt being nine, how he'd felt so mature and worldly and ready to get out of his grandmother's house. Angel was old enough now to question her bedtime. She was old enough to make demands for what she wanted to eat for her meals. Old enough that maybe the way Jack ran their household just didn't sit well with her anymore.

It was all too complicated. Tim sighed. He could only hope that Angel never thought of Tim as the enemy.

"How's math? I'd offer to help you with your homework, but last time I looked at your math textbook I nearly threw up," Tim said. Angel giggled.

"It's not that hard," she said.

"Maybe not for the likes of you and your dad, but for us regular people, it's a nightmare. Literally. Your math textbook was scarier than Stephen King."

"Ugh, that's such an old reference," Angel said.

Angel had a smile that could power Tokyo. Tim's heart swelled at the sight of it, and on the heels of that elation came a twinge of guilt. When was the last time he'd seen her? Christmas? Surely they'd gotten together since Christmas, but there were so few holidays between Christmas and Easter.

Alright, maybe Tim should have made more of an effort to see his family, even if Jack exhausted him. It'd be worth it. Anything was worth it, if it meant he got to keep making Angel laugh.

* * *

It took them almost an hour and a half to make a proper pizza, and that was even using a quick-rise dough recipe they learned off of YouTube and a can of tomato sauce Tim found in their pantry. Their resulting three cheese and olive pizza was not bad, but perhaps not worth all the work.

"I like take-out better," Angel said mournfully.

"Hey, where's that can-do attitude?" Tim nudged her. "Our next attempt will be better, and probably won't take as long."

"I don't want to try again tomorrow," Angel said.

"That's fine. We've got all week. Or we can try something new."

Angel picked olives off of her plate. "So, what's your boss like?" she asked.

Tim's chewing slowed. "Um. Why?"

Angel shrugged without looking up. "I dunno. You work all the time now. Dad says you're his personal assistant, but I keep seeing you with a shoulder harness out in public."

"Technically, I'm supposed to be a bodyguard but I... fill a lot of holes." Tim winced, thankful of Angel's youthful innocence, and that Jack was not around to hear that particular turn of phrase. "I help Rhys out in a lot of different ways."

"Is he nice?"

Tim gave that careful consideration while he picked up the abandoned crust on his niece's plate.

"He's nice enough," he said. Angel nodded encouragingly. She watched him and didn't speak, which was unusual. Tim wasn't used to filling silence during their conversations.

"He can be a bit of a jerk, sometimes," Tim admitted.

"Like dad?"

Tim frowned. "Your father is not a jerk, Angel," he lied. "Don't ever let him hear you say something like that. But to answer your question, no. Rhys is— can be thoughtless at times, and he can be a little arrogant, but he's not malicious. At least, not to me."

"Does he do nice things for you?" Angel asked.

"Uh. Like what?"

"Like... buy you cool stuff?"

"He pays for the lunch I have to pick up," Tim said. "But that's really more of a company expense..."

Angel twirled a long strand of hair around her fingers as she spoke. "What about fancy dinners? Does he take you out a lot?"

"Sometimes, but that's just part of the job," Tim said.

"Do you share desserts?"

"What is this all about, Angel?" Tim asked.

Angel slipped off the tall stool. "Nothing. Hey, is it okay if I play downstairs for a while?"

Tim's frown grew. "It's fine, but only for an hour. Absent dad's orders."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes again, but she left without protest.

That was strange, Tim thought as he cleared away the dishes. Why would Angel want to know if Rhys bought him nice things? Or if they shared desserts? Just what exactly had Jack been saying to her about his relationship with his boss?

Probably not worth considering, Tim decided as he wrapped up their leftovers. Jack talked a lot of shit. He could only hope he had some kind of censor when he talked to his impressionable daughter, but who really knew? Regardless of what he'd said to her, Angel would lose interest eventually. She always did.

* * *

Jack returned that night, almost two hours after Angel went to bed.

"Everything went okay?" he asked.

"Smooth as anything," Tim replied. He looked up from the couch with a grin. "She loves me, you know. Thinks I'm the best thing since robots gained sentience."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack grumbled as he stalked over to the fridge. Tim settled back, returning to his tablet once more.

"There's leftover pizza, if you want it. Homemade with love." Tim listened to the sound of Jack messing around in the kitchen while he read over a new batch of emails. Rhys had thoughtfully marked which ones were important, and which ones came from anyone but Rhys.

"Are you working?" Jack dropped into the seat beside him, a plate of cold pizza in one hand and a beer in the other.

"Just some stuff," Tim said.

"Jesus. Even I don't work as much as you," Jack said through a mouthful of dough.

"That's a lie and we both know it."

Jack grunted instead of argued. He told the television to turn on, and told it to find him something 'trashy and sexy'.

"You'll melt its mainframe with a command that imprecise," Tim said.

"Nah, it'll just flip through the sixty options."

Tim kept his attention on his tablet while the television did as Jack predicted. He listened to a young woman shout to another young woman about their doorman.

"What have you been saying to Angel about Rhys?" Tim asked without looking up.

"You think I talk about that spoiled wannabe in my own home? Please."

"She asked me a lot of strange questions about him today," Tim said.

Jack shrugged. "She's a curious girl. She's got a lot on her mind. The other day, she asked me a million questions about early 19th century industrialisation. Tomorrow she'll probably ask you questions about Calvinism. I wouldn't overthink it."

Tim frowned at his screen. Jack finished his dinner in silence.

* * *

The next two days went smoothly, and Angel didn't have any other strange questions for Tim about his work. Tim had never been more relieved to talk about solar energy farms, sustainable farming methods, and hobbits in his life.

Tim began to enjoy the luxury of seeing his niece every day. When Wednesday rolled around, he realised that their week together was almost up. It made him sad to think they might not get another chance like this for a while.

"I was thinking we could visit the aquarium tonight," Tim said during their drive home. She looked up from her backpack, her blue eyes widening. "Assuming you're interested. And after your homework is finished, of course," he added.

"Yes! Oh my god, I haven't been there in FOREVER, not since a class trip two years ago, and that was back before they installed the shark rescue tank program. Oh my god, are we gonna see the sharks? They have blacktip sharks there and I spent an afternoon reading up on coral sharks two months ago and they were just so sweet looking; do you know that sharks aren't even that violent, they just use their mouths to feel everything and we kind of look like sealions which is why they attack us sometimes..."

Tim relaxed. He'd been worried that maybe Angel had grown out of all of her enthusiasms, that maybe she'd hit the cynical stage of disliking everything that all kids eventually hit, but it looked as if he'd been wrong. He learned a great deal about sharks during their twenty-minute drive back to Golden Springs.

Angel sprinted up to her workstation as soon as they came through the door, shouting that she'd be finished with her homework within the hour.

"Don't hurt yourself," Tim called back as her thudding steps faded. "And try not to break your neck running all over the place!"

Her door slammed shut. Tim shook his head with a grin. Is that what he would have been like, if he'd been allowed to run, unafraid to make that much noise? Jack had been full of energy—honestly, he still was—but it'd been twisted up with his anger. Jack ran around the neighbourhood at Angel's age, but he'd been looking for trouble.

He usually had no trouble finding any, Tim recalled ruefully. Tim spent most of his childhood reading in corners or trailing after Jack, ready to clean up the mess before their grandmother could find it.

Tim wandered over to the kitchen, intent on finding some snacks for their trip. Maybe he'd take her out to dinner afterwards. She might like that.

Jack's kitchen wasn't quite as obnoxiously futuristic as Rhys', but it still had more touch screens and computer chips than Tim was normally comfortable finding in a room with an oven.

Jack refused to let Angel eat anything pre-packaged, claiming granola bars and pudding packs were filled with garbage sugar and carbs. There were a few homemade, refined sugar-free, coconut-date energy balls (with carob!) sitting in a labelled glass container in the fridge, and a bag of shelled pistachios in the pantry. Tim pulled the bag out and tipped the last of the energy balls into a reusable lunch sack. After some hesitation, Tim grabbed two glass bottles of the cold-pressed juice that had been delivered the other day. (Jack had a juice subscription, something Tim would never ever let him live down.)

Tim had two bottles in hand when he heard his silenced phone chime. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

Rhys had an important meeting lined up for first thing tomorrow morning. Everything had been in hand when Tim left. Rhys had assured Tim that everything would be fine, that he didn't need anything, yes, he was sure, just go and pick up Angel already.

Of course, it could be nothing. Tim set the bottles down carefully beside the packed snacks and picked up his phone.

Best Boss in the Whole World: Tim!!  
Best Boss in the Whole World: You aren't picking up your phone!!!!  
Best Boss in the Whole World: I need you right now call me NOW

Oh, fuck _off_.

* * *

"This had better be important, boss."

_"Of course it's important. I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't. You remember the GEM Project? The new onboard computing system for artificial limbs? Well, the New York guys want to see a full report before the meeting tomorrow and I'm stuck in the office, up to my neck in prep and Todd's stuck at the Miami branch—"_

"Skip to the end, Rhys."

_"I need you to go to my apartment, upload everything I've got on GEM onto an encrypted drive, and deliver it here. That's it."_

Tim rubbed his brow. "You seriously can't do this yourself?"

_"I would if I could, but I've got a transfer in progress and I've got next week's data burst compiling and you know I can't leave those things alone, and if I can just get the GEM stuff uploaded with the rest of the data within the next hour, I can get out of here before midnight and you're always on my case to eat a proper dinner—"_

"Rhys. You couldn't send someone else?" But he knew the answer already.

_"Into my penthouse? My private place of residence? Great idea, Tim. I'll just go down to the street and find some homeless person to do it for me. Why do I even pay you anything?"_

"Okay, first of all, being homeless doesn't mean you're a criminal," Tim said. Rhys groaned. "Second of all, you pay me because you know I'm going to do this stupid, pointless errand, even though you explicitly told me I had the entire afternoon off—"

_"Can you come by within the next hour? I've already sent an express car to your brother’s tacky McMansion. Should be there in five. You're a lifesaver, Tim!"_

"Yeah, yeah," Tim said, but Rhys had already hung up.

Tim sighed and rubbed at his temples, hoping to circumvent the stress headache growing behind his eyes.

It would just be one hour. Maybe less, if Rhys had sent them one of the newer models from the Atlas fleet of electric cars. An express vehicle would take them through the toll roads, above the worst of the mid-afternoon downtown traffic. And anyway, he continued arguing with himself as he made towards the stairs, the aquarium was in the area. He and Angel could just head straight there after they were finished in the office. If he asked Rhys if he could keep the car all night, Rhys would let him. God knew the little twerp owed him.

Yeah. This wouldn’t be so bad. Tim knocked on Angel's purple and blue door.

"Angel? You almost finished?"

* * *

By the time he and Angel had their shoes on and their snacks in hand, a black car sat idling outside on the long, winding driveway.

"Whoa." Angel's eyes grew large. "That's the new Atlas NT model. The frame's made from a new kind of metal alloy that allows for durability and better protection. The whole car's designed to collapse into a protective shell in the off-chance of an accident. The onboard computer's supposed to be programmed to take in almost 2 million custom voiced commands, making it one of the smartest on the market." She chattered on as Tim opened the door and shepherded her inside.

"It'll just be a quick trip," he said for the third time. "In and out and then we've got the rest of the day to ourselves."

"What's your boss' apartment like? Is it new? I heard he lives in the Helios Building. Did you know that the Helios Building was the first building in the world to run completely off of renewable energy? Every window is made from the conductive solar glass that Atlas built their fortune on."

"Rhys mentioned something about that," Tim said, his attention on the road. The car had purred its way quietly along the residential streets, a panther on the asphalt, but as soon as it entered the authorized highway area, it opened up its speed. Safe and buckled into the leather seat, Tim had nothing else to do but watch the odometer climb and listen to Angel excitedly talk about Atlas' recent advancements in green energy and conservation projects, and how it compared to Hyperion's own attempts. Tim felt like he was back at work already.

Jesus. All Rhys had to do was snap his fingers and Tim came running. He wondered what Jack would say when he found out. He wondered what it meant that he wasn't even annoyed with himself. He wanted to spend time with Angel, of course he did, but.... It was only an hour. What could the harm be?

This isn't healthy, Tim. This is what all your friends keep trying to warn you against.

"You're all quiet," Angel said, looking hurt. "Am I being boring?"

"What?" Tim flinched like he'd been hit. "No, of course not. You couldn't be boring if you tried. No, no, I've just got a lot on my mind."

"I guess you work around this stuff all the time. It's cool that you get to do this as, like, your job," she said.

"I don't really do much of anything," Tim said. "I'm just a glorified babysitter for an adult child."

As Tim predicted, it didn't take them long at all to get to the downtown core, to the golden-black Helios Building, where Rhys did indeed live. A few security checks later, and Tim and Angel found themselves inside his boss' penthouse.

Angel's eyes grew large as plates as she took in the space. "Whoa," she breathed.

Rhys' penthouse, like everything else he owned, was sleek, expensive, and loaded to the gills with state-of-the-art technology. Cutting-edge didn't even begin to describe it. Rhys had gizmos that hadn't even made it to market yet, because what better place to test out a prototype high-intensity convection oven than in your own home? Tim supposed it would be impressive to anyone else.

"This won't take a minute," Tim said as he plugged a portable drive into one of the many computer terminals Rhys had installed. Angel found her way into the living room, her wide eyes fixed on the small black square set into the centre of the wall.

"Is this a VR projector?" she asked.

"Probably. Hey, do me a favour and try not to touch anything, okay? Rhys can be pretty fussy about his stuff," Tim said absently.

Angel made a quiet sound that he hoped was acknowledgement. Without his ECHOgloves, Tim was forced to manually interact with the keypad, which was something of a relief. He found the GEM folder and copied everything within.

Angel moved cautiously around the living room, touching her fingers to the glass coffee table. The surface turned blue under her hand, and several screens projected themselves in front of her amazed face.

"Oh wow," she breathed. "Is it trying to read my face for clues? Oh wow, Uncle Tim! This is a computer that can read your face and tell you what you might want to watch!"

Tim peered in from the other room. "Angel, what are you doing? I asked you not to touch anything."

"Sorry." She pulled her hand back. The surface went dark once more and the screens faded into nothing.

"Come on. We're finished up here." He stashed the drive into his jacket and pulled his reluctant niece out of the penthouse.

"It can read your face! It looks at your face and tries to guess your mood," she said as Tim lead them both into the elevator. "Do you know how much training the AI has to go through to get that far? It takes hours! Hours and hours of technicians working. The system has to scan through trillions of images of people's faces."

"Teaching a machine how to recognize feelings. How could that go wrong?" Tim muttered. As if in demonstration of what damage technology could inflict upon man, Tim's phone rang. Tim bit back a curse and picked up.

"We're just leaving your place now, boss," he said.

 _"Change of plans,"_ Rhys said, sounding out of breath. _"I thought I had to sit and babysit but Yvette told me she'd already finished the compile and, what's worse, is the NYC guys don't actually have the right to ask for the GEM stuff, so—"_

"Hang on. Are you trying to tell me that you've interrupted my afternoon off and forced me to play errand boy for nothing?" Tim asked very, very calmly.

_"Not exactly, there's just a quick one-two thing, shouldn't take long but I need—"_

"Rhys."

_"Just two seconds—"_

"I have given you _plenty_ more than two seconds already, are you kidding me?" Tim could hear his voice climb.

He missed the look Angel sent his way, the way she went pale under her freckles.

Just who the hell did his boss think he was? The embarrassment and shame Tim should've been feeling all along finally came flooding through his head. How easy did Rhys think he was? That he'd go along with whatever he said, and leave his poor niece to entertain herself in that futurist nightmare hell puzzle apartment?

_"Tim, I promise—"_

"You are out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm going to abandon my niece to do another thing for you today." The elevator gave a cheerful ding as they reached the ground floor at last. "I've still got two hours before the aquarium closes and I'm taking Angel and you are going to let me use the damn car, and tomorrow you and me—" He stopped as the doors parted, bringing him face-to-face with the man he'd been berating.

"Hi," Rhys said, his golden eye dimming as their connection cut. "Look—"

Tim growled. Rhys held up his hands.

"Just a few minutes, that's all I need, I promise!"

"I've already given you twenty, which is a lot more than you deserve. C'mon, Angel." Tim took Angel's hand in his and stepped out into the lobby. Rhys didn't move.

"Tim," he said, those big eyes growing bigger. "Please?"

Oh, fuck right off. Did he really think that would be all it would take? That it would actually work? Tim had already done his due diligence. He'd been promised time off. This wasn't healthy. He had to say no.

“Please,” Rhys said again. God, he really sounded desperate.

Angel glanced up at Tim. Tim closed his eyes, his anger draining all at once.

"Two minutes," he said, opening them once more. Rhys beamed at him.

* * *

Too easy, that was Tim's trouble. He was a pushover, always had been. Everyone who got close to him figured it out eventually. A set of big, watery eyes, or a trembling lip and he was done for. Damn Rhys for getting to him so easily. He probably didn't even know he was doing it.

Rhys' new task required one of the top-secret files he kept squirrelled away in his home, where he kept everything with the most value. Somehow the people in Atlas' C-suite hadn't put an end to this dragon-like tendency to hoard data.

There were reports Tim had to summarize. That was what Rhys so desperately needed from him. Admittedly, the reports were from other, more senior members of the company, all of whom were busy reporting and distilling what was no doubt a long series of documents from their own underlings, who were summarizing from their underlings, and so on and on. A bureaucratic pyramid scheme of words. Rhys surprised him though, when he asked Tim to give his opinions.

"Just let me know if it makes sense to you," Rhys said.

"You really want my opinion?" Tim asked. Rhys huffed.

"Why would I ask for something I didn't want?" he asked. "Just read over those three documents, summarize, and give your thoughts at the very end. Be as candid as you like, I don't plan on sharing it with the board."

It was strange to think that Rhys could still surprise him like this. Tim got to work.

He relaxed into the silence of their shared workspace. It got like this almost every day. He'd never experienced anything quite like it. He liked how easy it was to sink into the silence, the way  it seemed to get into his head, putting all those restless thoughts to sleep, at least for a while.

Strange to think he'd gotten this sense of peace with Rhys, of all people. If he ever told anyone else how restful Rhys’ presence could be, they'd have thought he'd lost his damn mind. And they might not be wrong.

Rhys only managed a few minutes of uninterrupted work before Angel approached him. She sidled up to his work station, her hands behind her back and her most innocent face on display. Tim knew that look. She'd figured this one out when she was still wearing tutus to school every day. It was weapons-grade adorable, a look designed to melt her father's stone heart and get her out of trouble. It usually worked on Jack. It was guaranteed to work on Tim.

It definitely worked on Rhys.

"Can I help you with something, Angel?" Rhys asked, his hands hovering awkwardly above his screens.

"I wanted to ask you some questions about your computer system." She glanced up at Rhys and over to Tim. "Is it okay?"

Tim looked up with a small frown. "Angel, honey, Rhys is trying to work. I know this must be boring for you, but I promise we'll be finished soon. And then we'll go to the aquarium, right?"

She pouted at him, but before she could slink away, Rhys waved Tim's concerns off. "It's fine," he said, surprising them both. "What are you interested in learning, Angel?"

Angel's whole face lit up when she was excited. Her little body seemed to rise with the enthusiasm inside of her, like a balloon in her chest, practically lifting her up from the floor. Questions bubbled out of her as quickly as she could deliver them.

"Does everything in here work on the same network? The scanning tech looked like it went into the penthouse's mainframe. Is everything connected to it? Does every appliance use the data to calibrate themselves to each individual's preference?"

Tim paled. "Oh god. Do they?"

Rhys laughed. He closed his golden hand, and the screens he'd been working at winked out all at once. "You're pretty close. There's a central AI that runs the more complicated aspects of the systems in my home, but it's pretty basic. I haven't given it a name or a voice yet."

"Yet?" Tim asked, sounding alarmed. They both ignored him.

"That's so cool! We don't have any complicated AI programs in my house. Dad hates them. He thinks all technology should work at human's commands, and shouldn't collect data on people, even though that's totally what predictive technology is supposed to do. He gets angry when the TV tries to show him targeted ads. Demo targeting has been done since the first days of TV!” She sounded so exasperated. “He hates it."

Rhys looked like a man who'd gotten everything he'd asked Santa for. "Does he?"

"Angel, less talk about your dad, alright?" Tim said.

"Don't listen to him, Angel. You talk about whatever you like." There it was, that obnoxious grin. A herald of Tim's future headache. "Come on." Rhys stepped out from behind his desk. "Why don't we go and take a look at my system for ourselves?"

Angel practically vibrated with excitement. "You mean it?"

"Really? Don't you have work?" Tim asked. Rhys shot him a quick look, his smile turning sly.

"I'm finished. You're the one who's got something to do. And you don't want your poor niece to get bored, do you?"

"Of course not, but—"

"C'mon, Angel." Rhys lead her into the next room, leaving Tim alone. He scowled at the back of Rhys' dark-blue vest but didn't stop them.

Well, if Angel were going to cause trouble, it couldn't happen to a nicer person. Angel was a sweet kid but she had no filter. She might spill a few details about Jack's personal life to Rhys, but she would turn around and do the very same to her father about Rhys. If Rhys wanted to get cozy with Jack's daughter, that was his funeral. Tim resumed work.

Tim finished within an hour, and not as quickly as he would have liked. He gave his short, perfunctory opinions, saved, and closed the files with a sigh of relief. It was only then that he realised how quiet it had become in the apartment.

"Angel? Are you ready, kid?" Tim stepped into the other room, where he found his boss and his niece seated in the sunken living area. Screens surrounded them on every side, like a pillow fort made of light and obscenely expensive technology. They went quiet as soon as they caught sight of Tim.

Tim pushed aside the feeling of disquiet their shared innocent expressions gave him. "Angel, did you hear me?"

"Sorry, Uncle Tim, we were just talking about...." She glanced over to Rhys and giggled. Rhys nudged her. "About AIs."

"Yeah, very convincing. Come on, if we steal Rhys' car we can still make it to the aquarium before it closes." Tim held his hand out.

She clambered to her feet, dusting her purple jeans off with one hand. "Okay. Mr. Rhys, do you want to come with us?"

Tim felt his face grow warm. Rhys' grin faded. He glanced at Tim. "Uh."

"We're gonna see some sharks," Angel said. "There's a new exhibit at the aquarium all about shark preservation, trying to spread awareness of how cool and good sharks are."

"Cool _and_ good, huh?" Rhys chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. He wouldn't look at Tim.

This didn't have to be so strange, did it? This was just his boss. Tim's job was just a regular job. Anything strange Tim might've been feeling in that moment was nothing to be worried about, because nothing would happen between them.

"Do you know much about sharks?" she asked.

"I don't," Rhys said. "But—"

Tim made a decision. "Then you should probably join us," he said. Rhys shot him a startled look. "You know, if you wanted to—"

"I do," Rhys blurted. Tim quirked a brow.

"—and if you're not busy," he finished.

Rhys bit his lip and glanced towards his work station in the other room. "I can take a break."

He began to push himself to his feet. Tim stepped forward and offered his hand, not really giving it much thought. He didn't give the look Rhys wore, or the way his hand lingered in Tim's much thought, either.

Rhys pulled his hand back with some reluctance. He smiled nervously at Angel, who stood by the door, radiating impatience. His face had gone a little pink.

That didn't have to mean anything. Tim turned away. "Alright," he said with a bright smile. "Are we ready to go?"

* * *

"I have to say, the scope of this place is pretty impressive," Rhys said.

Every aquarium was impressive to Tim's eyes. He loved the moody lighting, the bright blue of the tanks, the flash of small, colourful fish swimming past in large schools. He admired the way the schools could move in such graceful syncronization, almost fluid-like in their ability to split and re-join on the other side. He liked the eels and their long, slinky bodies, their wide eyes and large teeth, swimming in deep, cold water. The white-bodied jellyfish, bioluminescent and ethereal against the black background.

And the sharks, naturally.

The aquarium was nearly empty when they arrived, and it only became emptier as they continued on their self-driven tour. Rhys commented on how strange it was to see the place so barren of bodies.

Tim, who had made a quiet phone call to the proprietor before they set off in their vehicle to ensure that this would be the case, only shrugged. "Are you really that sad to miss out on the massive crowd of families and late school trips?"

Rhys pursed his lips. "It would've been novel," he said.

"Spoken like a man who's never been in a crowd in his life. If you're really that sad, I can buy an umbrella to poke you in the spine with. Maybe the gift shop has a stroller I can ram into the back of your calves," Tim said.

"It can't be that bad," Rhys said.

"I'll stick a used lollipop on the back of your nice jacket. I'll push you into the railing when you're standing in front of the tropical fish tank. I'll poke you in the face with a long lens." Rhys shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I can keep going, boss," Tim offered.

"That won't be necessary," Rhys replied.

Angel didn't mind the empty space. She went from exhibit to exhibit, ping-ponging back and forth through each room, filled with restless energy. Now and then, she'd pop over to Tim's side to relay a new fact she'd learned, or to grab him by the hand and drag him to see a cool fish.

More often than not, she bounded on ahead of them, her black ponytail slapping the back of her neck with each step, uncaring of their deliberate pace.

"Slow it down, Angel," Tim called after her departing back.

"You guys are _too_ slow," she called back.

"Give Rhys a break, he's never been to the aquarium before."

"I've been to plenty of aquariums," Rhys said as they strolled along behind her. "You see one, you seen 'em all."

"Well, well, look at the fish connoisseur. Tell me all about your magical trips to the fancy aquariums around the world, Rhys. I hear they have one in Singapore made of crystal and platinum. Did you see the one in Dubai? I heard it has real mermaids."

"I wish," Rhys said wistfully.

Tim was enjoying himself. "I'm sorry if the boring local aquarium isn't exciting enough for you. Some of us would've given our eyeteeth for the chance to visit a place like this when we were kids. Some of us didn't get to ride around on private jets before we learned how to ride bicycles. _Some_ of us—"

Rhys nudged him. "Right, you're the poor kid who grew up without shoes and a roof over his head on the wrong side of the tracks in five feet of snow, uphill both ways."

Tim sighed, warming up to his tragic orphan role. "I slept on a rusty car door that I had to steal myself from the junk yard. My utensils were pieces of broken glass. I ate off a hubcap for dinner. I didn't own any clothes. We had communal clothing."

"You had a twin. That just seems economical," Rhys said.

"Will you two quit giggling and keep up?" Angel shouted back at them.

"I will not stop giggling," Tim said as Angel stomped up to them once more. "You can't make me, Angel."

She grabbed his hand and dragged him forward, a tugboat with a barge. "We're missing out! On the sharks!"

Tim leaned back as she tried to yank him along. "Help me, Rhys. I'm being abducted by a very small, very angry child."

"You're a terrible bodyguard," Rhys said, crossing his arms.

"I'm not that small!" Angel yanked hard on his arm.

"Really?" Tim picked her up, and slung her, shrieking with laughter, over his shoulder. "Seems pretty small to me."

"You'll regret this!" She kicked his chest, each blow landing with the same light force. Still pulling the punches for her old uncle. Tim appreciated that.

A familiar feeling bubbled in his chest, a lightness he hadn't felt in a truly long time. He didn't realise just how much he'd been smiling until he felt his face hurt from it.

"Pick up the pace, Rhys," Tim said, grabbing his hand without looking back. "I'm told we've got sharks to look at."

"We're gonna learn about them," Angel said, hanging limply from his shoulder.

"Seems like you already know plenty. You'll have to teach us," Tim said.

"Mr. Rhys, do you know anything about sharks?" Angel asked.

Rhys didn't immediately reply. When Tim looked back, he saw that Rhys' face had gone bright red, almost purple under the blue lights that surrounded them.

He was looking right back at Tim, eyes wide and lips parted, his expression painfully open. A small flash of fear lighted through Tim's head. Had he overstepped his boundaries? Was this too much?

He'd been there for Rhys when he was sick. He'd rubbed Rhys’ feet with his bare hands. This was nothing. The fear vanished, consumed by what Tim chose to believe was reason and logic. He tightened his grip on Rhys' hand and gave him a small smile.

Rhys returned it, slow and uncertain.

They saw the sharks together, while the guests around them filed out, leaving them alone in a large room, lit up by walls of blue water. Angel told them everything they needed to know.

* * *

It was dark by the time they emerged, which alarmed Rhys and told Tim they'd been out past the aquarium's closing time. Strangely, no one inside seemed to mind. Especially when Angel cleaned out the gift shop.

They bundled into the car, Rhys sliding behind the driver's seat without question and Tim in shotgun.

"Back home?" Rhys asked, his hand above the vehicle's touch-screen.

Tim opened his mouth to say that yes, he'd like to go home, feed the kid and maybe watch something brainless before bed, before his brain caught up with him. He felt his face grow warm, as though he'd spoken that piece of ridiculousness out loud, and glanced into the rear-view to cover his embarrassment.

"What do you think, Angel? You want to grab something to eat on the way home, try cooking, or what?"

"I want sushi," Angel said. Tim laughed.

"That's horrible! We just saw a bunch of nice fish." He jabbed his finger at her. "You even told me you thought they were cute. You pointed out no fewer than twenty different kinds of fish that were, and I quote, 'very cute'."

"What does that have to do with wanting sushi?" she asked, her nose wrinkling.

"I kind of want sushi, too," Rhys said.

Tim fell back into his seat with a tragic sigh. "You're both horrible people. Which place do we want? The one on Trichester, near Upton?"

"Wherever you like," Rhys said. The car's screen lit up, the left-blinker turning on as it stood by to pull into traffic. "What about after?"

Tim had been trying not to think about that. No way in hell was he going to let Rhys join them in Golden Springs, not when Jack could come home at any minute. Going back to Rhys' penthouse... didn't feel quite right. The idea of intruding on Rhys' space with their take-out sushi and all of Angel's noise felt like too much of a statement, although Tim couldn't say what it might be a statement about.

"My place's pretty close," Tim said. It seemed safe enough.

* * *

"Oh my god. This is your apartment?" Rhys stopped dead in the entrance of Tim's one-bedroom place, staring into the interior with the expression of a man about to go spelunking.

Tim didn't even pause as he pushed past Rhys. He had expected this sort of reaction from his boss, whose walk-in closet was probably around the same size as Tim's entire apartment.

"Home sweet home," Tim confirmed.

"Where's the kitties?" Angel went running past, barely pausing long enough to kick off her shoes.

"Probably hiding and be careful, Angel, they scratch and bite, remember?" Tim called after her but there was really no point in raising his voice in a place this size. His neighbours two doors over could probably hear him.

"I pay you so much." Rhys sounded disappointed.

"Don't play this game. You saw this building when you pulled up. What did you think my place would look like?" Tim set the tray of sushi down on his counter and started pulling out flatware and chopsticks.

"I guess I thought this place might've been like those refurbished factories, where every unit is a penthouse and every tenant is an artist with a rich family supporting them," Rhys said. "You know, _deshabille_. This place is just... shabille."

"I haven't found the time to move yet," Tim said, pulling the plastic lid off of their dinner.

"Uncle Tim has always lived here." Angel padded back into the main area. "I can't find your kitties."

All for the best, really. Thing Two was a biter and Thing One only tolerated three minutes of socialising with humans per day.

"You've always lived here?" Rhys asked. He finally stepped past the shoe rack Tim kept by the entrance and into the main area. "Like... since you left the Lance?"

Tim shrugged as he set the plates down on his kitchen table. "Guess so."

Rhys looked around. His expression of disgust had melted away into something a little more sickening. Almost sentimental.

"Seriously, I know you earn a lot of money. You could have a nicer place than this," he said. Tim said nothing. He smiled at Angel as she took her seat.

"It's not about the money," Tim said, straightening up. "I just haven't had time, that's all. Anyway, this place isn't so bad."

Rhys looked tempted to argue, but he only shook his head and took his seat.

It was a nice dinner. Sushi was one of the few non-boring foods Rhys had already tried by the time Tim came into his life, and, like anything Rhys bothered to like, he became a bit of a snob about it.

"The best sushi is just the freshest. If you can get to a place by the ocean, where supplies are constantly refreshed, then that's the best."

"Overfishing has depleted the ocean's natural resources and ecosystem," Angel said with a frown.

Rhys fiddled with his chopsticks. "Well. We're working on that."

Tim's phone vibrated in his pocket. He stood up as Angel began to lecture Rhys about the pros and cons of corporate conservation strategies and how it lined up against the various indigenous tribe's need to fish for their livelihood.

He stepped out onto his small balcony and shut the door behind him before he picked up.

"Jack."

_"Timmy."_

Oh, that tone. That tone that could send ten-year-old Tim diving under the bed for cover.

"Are you home already?" Tim asked.

_"Imagine my surprise, coming home to an empty house."_

"We're at my place. We're having dinner. We went to the aquarium." Tim kept his voice even. He hadn't done anything wrong.

 _"Do you know what time it is? Do you know that it's a school night?"_ That tone that promised an argument, that promised to crack the ice under Tim’s feet if he didn't tread carefully.

"I do. I'm sorry," Tim said. Jack's moods were a minefield he'd learned to navigate years ago. "I can bring her home right now if you'd like."

Jack didn't respond immediately, which Tim knew was a promising sign. Jack knew all of Tim's buttons, sure, but Tim knew Jack's emergency shut-off codes. Apologise, play nice, offer obedience. Easy.

It helped, Tim supposed, that aside from Angel, Tim was Jack's only living relative. Maybe if anyone else had tried the same tactics, it wouldn't have gotten the same results. Tim would never know.

He heard Jack sigh. _"Nah, it's fine. She'll fuckin' hate me if I make you drag her home now. But right after dinner, okay?"_

"Of course."

_"Text me when you're done and I'll come pick her up."_

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Tim said, far too quickly to be casual. Fuck, after those hoops he'd just jumped through, he had to go and dangle some meat in front of the lion's jaws.

_"Oh. Really. And why's that?"_

Tim thought quickly. "You know how my neighbours get when they see us together. I'm trying to live a low-profile here, Jack. I'll bring Angel back as soon as we're finished. Scout's honour."

_"We were never in scouts."_

"Goodbye, Jack."

"Everything okay?" Rhys asked as Tim returned to his seat.

"Super. Hey, Angel, no rush, but you've gotta head home once we're finished."

"Okay." She popped the last of the spicy tuna roll into her mouth.

Rhys and Angel carried the conversation while Tim ate the last of the dynamite roll. The conversation on wildlife preservation had lead them towards the zoo. Angel told Rhys all about her favourite animals, a list that grew longer every time Tim heard it.

When they'd finished, Angel excused herself to go and find the cats while the adults cleaned up.

Rhys joined Tim in the kitchen. He leaned his hip against the counter and watched Tim fill the sink.

"You're not about to lecture me about my apartment again, are you?" Tim asked as he squeezed blue dish soap into the water.

"I've never seen you like this," Rhys said. Tim looked up, one eyebrow raised. "You're different around Angel. Less uptight."

Tim scowled. "I'm not uptight."

"Sure you are. That's part of why I keep you around. I need uptight." He smiled when Tim continued to frown. "It's a real novelty, seeing you actually relaxed."

"Well, being outside of work will do that to you," Tim said as he started scrubbing. "If you took some time off once and a while..."

Rhys nudged his calf with his foot. "Hey, if I can't lecture you about your tiny apartment, you can't lecture me about my work."

"I get to lecture whoever about whatever I want in my apartment. When was the last time you booked some time for yourself?" Tim asked as he set the dish onto the rack.

Rhys went silent, apparently giving it some thought.

"Oh my god, you can't even remember." Tim flicked water from his fingers. "That's too long, boss."

"No, hang on..." Rhys held up his hand. "Christmas. Probably. Right? People take Christmas off."

Tim shook his head. "I feel like we have this conversation once a month. You really need to start thinking about your life outside of work."

"What about you?" Rhys demanded. That soft smile had fallen away. "I don't think you get to lecture me when you're just as bad as I am."

Tim looked down at the draining water.

The worst part was that he hadn't always been like this. He'd thrown himself into the Lance because he really thought he would be making a difference. Because he was good at his job, and he thought he could do some good in the world. He let the Lance become his entire life because he really and truly believed that one day it would kill him, and there were worse ways to go.

Tim hadn't lasted at any of those office jobs before Atlas for a lot of reasons, but the real reason, the horrible reason, was that Tim needed a cause to die for. He couldn't accept anything less. He was forever a knight in search of a king. He knew that about himself, even if he didn't like it.

But people could change. Couldn't they? He wiped his hands off on the dish towel.

"This is why we keep having this fight," Tim said, looking up at Rhys' face with an easy smile. "I gotta figure at least one of us will get right one day."

Rhys hackles lowered. He looked down at his floral-printed socks. "I don't know if I really see myself with a family. I like work. I like..." He struggled. Expressing himself had never been Rhys' area of expertise.

"No one's saying you gotta rush out and get married," Tim said.

“You clearly haven’t talked to my mother lately,” Rhys muttered.

"You can like work, but there can be something else, too,” Tim went on. “You can have a life. Don't you ever go out on dates?"

Rhys' cheeks started to turn pink. "Of course I have." Tim waited, quiet and without judgement. "It's just... I've been busy."

Outside of Atlas' smooth glass walls, removed from his natural habitat of his giant office, taken from the grip of his giant desk, the corporate polish had chipped away from Rhys’ shell. Standing there in Tim's little kitchen, leaning against his formica counter, with his dumb socks out, his vest missing, his shirt collar unbuttoned, he looked like a far cry from the flashy CEO Tim met almost a year ago. Tim wasn't callous enough to say that Rhys finally looked human, because Rhys had always looked human to Tim, and Tim had seen him in worse condition.

No, Rhys looked... domestic. Like the sort of person who could start dating. Actually dating, not just a show played out behind the flash of the paparazzi’s cameras. Like the kind of guy who might share a real dinner with someone outside of the public eye. Who could have a family, if he wanted one.

"Do you want kids?" Tim asked.

"With you?" Rhys returned, smiling weakly.

"Uncle Tim!" Angel's shrill call couldn't have come at a better time. Tim turned gratefully away from Rhys' reddening face and hustled out of the kitchen.

"I found your kitties! They're on the top shelf of your closet."

Tim found her in his bedroom, pointing up at the top shelf where, indeed, a pair of brown mackerel tabbies lay curled up between the boxes of old clothes and Christmas decorations Tim never put up.

"Well, they're probably up there for a reason, Angel. Best to leave them alone."

Angel pouted. "I just want to pet them."

"Next time, maybe. We gotta head out anyway. I promised your dad I'd take you home once we were finished dinner." As soon as they were finished dinner, in fact, but it wasn't like Jack could time them.

"Should we take my car?" Rhys asked. Tim shot him a brief, nervous look.

"No, that's okay. I can call one up. You should probably head home."

"We're going to the zoo tomorrow," Angel said as she tied her laces. "You wanna come with us? They've got emperor penguins! A pair of bonded males just adopted an egg. It’s all over the news."

It was a sign of how far removed Rhys was from his natural element that he actually started to fidget. "Um, well—" he started, twining his fingers together.

There was a brief knock on the door, and Tim only had a moment's warning before he heard the familiar sound of his entry code being entered and the door sang its merry little tune as it unlocked, and swung open, and Jack was there.

Jack was there, in Tim's threshold, his eyes locked on Rhys.

"Dad!" Angel actually looked and sounded happy to see him. She flung her arms around his centre.

"Hey, kiddo." He twined his fingers through her hair without breaking eye-contact. "Hope you don't mind I dropped by. I thought I'd save you the trip."

* * *

Honestly, it could have gone a lot worse.

* * *

In a flash, Rhys was the CEO of Atlas once more. Tall and sleek, smug and assured, confidence oozing from every pore.

It was like two cats entering the same room for the first time. The way Jack and Rhys stared at each other, the way the air thrummed with tension between them, Tim half-wondered which one of them would reach out for the first strike.

"We were just heading out," Tim said, as though they might've had any other reason to stand in front of the door in their coats and shoes.

"Good to see you, Jack," Rhys said. Tim forgot what a good liar he could be.

"This is a surprise." Jack's expression probably looked friendly enough to anyone else. His smile wide, showing off his thousand-dollar smile. "Didn't expect to see you here, Rhysie."

 _Rhysie_? Tim smothered a frown, ignored a small and irrational twist of something silly inside his chest.

Not a flicker, not a twitch of muscle on Rhys' face. He might've been carved from stone, that smile stuck there until time did its business and he eroded. This was the CEO Tim knew. He half expected Rhys' desk to form around him, like summoned armour in a fantasy movie.

"Your daughter invited me," Rhys said.

Jack glanced at Tim. "Really."

Was it supposed to be like this? The way they acted around each other, the look on their faces. Jack's smile looked so good, so convincing, because it was the one he practiced in the mirror. It was the one Tim had seen on his face countless times, always aimed at someone about to get their teeth knocked out, sometimes literally. It brought a lot of ancient, barbed fears out of hiding in Tim's head. Of any time he'd spent in some shitty bar, some filthy alley, watching his brother escalate a bad situation to a worse situation, ready for the sirens to start, ready to drag him out before anything got really bad.

But this was just Rhys, not some asshole with a knife and a blood alcohol percentage over a safe limit.

"We went to the aquarium."

Jack's smile went a little tight. "Really. The aquarium? You brought your boss to the aquarium? After poor Marco's been on you to introduce you to your niece, Tim?"

Tim knew he was turning red. He could feel his face get hot as everyone turned to look at him.

"Marco? That guy you keep texting?" Rhys asked.

"Dad, are we leaving?" Angel asked, ignorant of the drama taking place just two feet above her little head. Tim could've kissed her.

"Yeah. Yeah, we need to get you home." He patted his daughter's hair, some of the flint vanishing from his expression as he looked down at her. "Tim, same time tomorrow?"

"Of course," Tim said, relaxing.

Rhys touched his hand to Tim's sleeve. "I should head out soon, myself."

Tim thought about Jack and Rhys sharing an elevator down to his lobby, walking out together. That silly feeling gave another feeble twist.

"You could stick around," Tim said, without giving it much thought beyond the image of the two of them stuck in an enclosed space in his mind.

Rhys might've found the offer surprising, but Tim couldn't tell. He couldn't read anything beyond the corporate ice.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tim," Jack said, putting his hand around Angel's shoulders. "And hey, if you're set on that zoo trip tomorrow, why not ask Marco? I bet he'd love to join you."

Tim didn't look at Rhys.

"Good night, Jack," he said as the door swung shut. He listened to them walk away and didn't fully relax until he heard the ka-chunk of his ancient elevator starting to move.

"That was fun," Rhys said, and he was back again, his spine curving into a slouch, his expression human and soft once more. 

"Fuck me." Tim leaned his head against the wall, letting all the tension drain from his body. "I knew you guys weren't exactly buddies, but that was...." He pushed out a hard breath, rubbing his hand down his face.

Rhys looked delighted. "He was pissed off, wasn't he? I wasn't sure, but if anyone would know, it would be you."

"What did you do to make him that angry?" Tim asked.

Rhys stared at him. "I hired his twin brother out from under him to act as my personal servant."

Tim peeked at Rhys through the tops of his fingers. "You think that was about me?"

Rhys sighed and patted Tim on his shoulder. "I think I should head out. You should get some rest. We've both got an early one tomorrow."

"Right." Tim straightened, feeling a little mystified. "You've got everything in order, then?"

"Close enough that it won't take me long to finish before the meeting."

"Make sure you get some rest tonight, boss," Tim said as he held the door open.

"Of course," Rhys said as he breezed past.

"I mean it! I don't want to see you with circles under your eyes tomorrow. You know that's a pain to cover up!" Tim shouted. Rhys waved without turning around as he strolled down the hall.

Inside his now-silent apartment, Tim slipped off his shoes and coat. Thing One wound his way around Tim's legs, out and about now that the coast was clear. Tim leaned down and scratched him behind a notched ear.

"What do you suppose he meant by all that?" Tim asked. Thing One stared up at him, licking his chops. "Angel asked all those weird questions about Rhys before, too. Suppose Jack put her up to it?"

That would be his style. But why? What on earth could he get out of that info?

He thought about Athena and Janey, and their concern over Tim's personal life. The sort of ideas they had about the relationship he shared with Rhys. Ideas that wouldn't be helped by anything they'd done tonight.

Tim looked into his kitchen, where he'd been doing dishes just minutes before. Rhys could've done anything with his time. His brain was half machine. He could've hooked himself up to the internet, he could've worked on anything, looked at anything. Fuck, he could've played a hand of internet poker.

Instead, he stood in the kitchen beside Tim, watching him clean their dishes. Just talking.

"I don't really know what I'm doing anymore," Tim admitted. Thing One trotted hopefully towards his empty bowl. "I think I might be in trouble."

* * *

The drive home might've been tense, but Angel didn't really notice. She had too many things to talk about. The world was filled with useful information and adults always looked at her differently when she shared it with them. She liked the way their expressions changed when she started in on the usefulness of kelp forests, or marsh lands, or the reason the water in Yellowstone looked so pure and blue, or the fact that opossums couldn't carry rabies, or anything else she absorbed. Her dad didn't look at her any differently. He said it was because he was always impressed with her. She'd have to work really hard to surprise him.

Tonight, he wasn't looking at her at all. He was staring out the windshield, his hands tight on the wheel. He still drove everywhere, even though everyone had moved on to the self-driving fleets. He told her he had to pay extra money for the right to drive his own car, something he still complained about. They made him go in for extra tests, too.

"Angel, sweetheart," he said when she'd lapsed into a rare silence. "What happened tonight? Why'd you invite Rhys out?"

Angel shrugged. "I thought you wanted me to find out more about him an' Uncle Tim. And we were at his place and we were talking about our plans and it's not polite to talk about your plans in front of someone and not invite them."

Her dad's face scrunched up. "Is this what they're teaching you at that school? Jesus. Don't worry about social niceties, that stuff doesn't matter for people like us."

Angel sighed. "Yes, dad."

"Unless you're talkin' to me, of course." He drummed against the wheel. "Did you at least learn anything interesting from your visit? About your uncle and that—and about Rhys?" he said, just as she opened her mouth to talk about Mako sharks.

"I don't know," she said. "They walked really slow and they were always talking and standing beside each other but they didn't hold hands the way me and my boyfriend do," Angel said with full Lawrence confidence.

Her dad's eyes closed briefly, his grip tightening. "One thing at a time," he muttered.

"When me an' Hinder walk around, we always hold hands and he likes to pick flowers for me and he tells me jokes," she said as the leather wheel began to creak under the strain. She tipped her head back and frowned at the dark sky through the sunroof. "Although, Rhys an' Uncle Tim were giggling a lot."

"Great. That's great," he said, but he didn't sound like he meant it.

Angel turned her attention to her father’s face. Lights passed over him as they drove on the expensive toll road, beams of white-yellow that illuminated his angular features before they passed. He kind of looked angry, but he almost always did if he wasn't smiling. And sometimes, even when he was smiling.

"Are you angry?" she asked.

He didn't turn towards her. "Not at you, princess. You did great today."

Of course she did. That wasn't really what she wanted to hear. "Are you angry with Uncle Tim?" she asked.

Her dad didn't say anything. She kicked the underside of her seat.

"I'm not angry, Angel. I'm just worried," he said.

"You’re always worried," she said.

He sighed. "I know. I can't help it."

"What are you worried about? Rhys is rich and he's got cool robots. He's nice, too. He let me play with his AI apartment, although he told me I can't tell you anything about that, and he wanted sushi like I did. And when we talked about Uncle Tim, he told me that he thought he was nice even though he was sometimes mean like you are."

Her dad's eyebrows went low over his eyes. "He said that?"

"He said he liked Uncle Tim." She looked at her dad. "That's good, right? If he likes Uncle Tim, then they can be happy."

"If it were that easy, kiddo, I wouldn't get involved," her dad said. Angel didn't really believe him, because her dad always got involved in Uncle Tim's life.

He reached over without taking his eyes off the road and ruffled her hair. "You did great, though, Angel. Nice and sneaky. Real proud of you."

She tried to scowl, even as a smile fought its way to her face. "Don't mess up my hair," she said, making herself sound as stern as possible.

Her dad raised his hand, a fake sign of surrender that didn't fool her for a minute. "My apologies, your majesty."

Angel did roll her eyes at that. "I'm gonna put on the radio," she said.

* * *

Tim dealt with the problem the way he'd been dealing with it for the last ten months: by pretending it didn't exist. He continued to perform his duties with impeccable skill, he kept on top of his work, he ate lunch with Rhys, and kept up his usual level of amusing banter.

Rhys, for his part, behaved just the same. Neither of them mentioned Angel's almost-invite to the zoo that afternoon. Not even when 2pm rolled around, and Tim had to start getting ready to leave.

Rhys sat behind his desk, safe and ensconced once more, with no fewer than twenty damn screens open in front of his face. "Tim, where's the—"

"I've arranged every file you could possibly need in our new filing system, boss," Tim said as he pulled on his jacket.

"Yes, but what about—"

"The stuff you need for this afternoon's all-hands meeting can be found in a file called 'Tim is Smarter and More Handsome Than Me'."

Rhys finally looked up with a scowl. "Both of those things are lies," he said.

Tim grinned as he snatched his phone from the desk. "So, am I seeing you later tonight?"

He'd practiced this inside his head at least a dozen times over the last hour. He knew exactly what his voice would sound like, what his face would look like. He'd be casual because this wasn't a problem. He'd be easy, because they could be friends. Angel liked Rhys and Tim would do nothing short of bringing down the sky for his niece, if it could make her smile.

And Tim could lie to himself, now and then.

"Tonight? The zoo?" Rhys said, his attention already wandering back to his work. He sat back in his chair, leaned his head against his hand, let his eyelids fall a little lower over his eyes. Relaxed and at ease.

"Angel would love the chance to talk your ear off about robo-animals or whatever." Tim could play the game too. He looked at his phone, noting a few new texts from Marco. He shut the screen off.

"Robo-animals?"

"She told me all about this dog they built. And these cyber-bees that have been designed to help support local diminishing bee populations."

"Yes, I know all about the advancements in animatronics. Who do you think you're talking to?" Rhys tapped a quick response to an email as he spoke.

This was becoming less casual than Tim would like. He didn't really want to push the issue. Honestly, every time he'd played it out in his head, he imagined Rhys would either jump at the chance or give him a quick brush-off. He didn't expect him to stall. Get caught in the weeds of small talk.

"Should I expect you tonight or not?" Tim asked, trying to sound like it didn't matter.

He wished they were both back in his apartment. Staring at the top of Rhys' coiffed and styled head, at his skin as smooth and perfect as a cast ceramic mask, Tim found himself a little unsettled. He couldn't read Rhys as easily like this. In his office, in front of his big windows, dressed in his pressed suits, his make-up perfectly applied (by Tim, but still), Rhys was the untouchable CEO once more.

"I don't know yet," Rhys said. "The meeting could go long, or someone could have a problem that I can't ignore, or I might get inconvenienced by someone because my so-called diligent bodyguard isn't here to look out for me." He looked up at that, catching Tim's eye, the corner of his lips lifting. "You know how these things get. I'll text you later."

Good, Tim thought as he left. That was good. That was a brush-off, clear as day. Everyone knew 'I'll text you later' essentially meant 'thanks but no thanks'. Even Tim knew that, and he was hopelessly out of touch. That was a good thing to know, because it felt like an answer to the question Tim had been trying hard not to ask.

It was better this way. Really, Tim should be relieved. He could enjoy the rest of the day without wondering.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he waited for his car's arrival. Another text from Marco. Tim actually found himself smiling as he responded. Maybe he really was relieved.

* * *

Marco: are you busy tonight?  
Tim: Going to the zoo with Angel and prob dinner after.  
Marco: aw  
Marco: i haven't seen you in a while

Tim's car had begun to slow as it entered into a residential zone. The bulk of Angel's private school could be seen above the peaked rooftops, a shining glass and metal cube so at odds with the old Victorian styling of the rest of the neighbourhood.

Tim had gotten this far without thinking too hard about what he was doing. He took a breath.

Tim: You want to come?

The 'seen' appeared beside his bubble, but no dancing ellipses. Tim's heart began to pound.

Tim: I mean you don't have to. I know hanging out with a kid isn't really anyone's idea of a good time and the zoo will be packed on a Friday evening so...  
Marco: yeah!!!  
Marco: no no i mean i want to come  
Marco: lol you type too fast

Tim's face felt warm. His car glided to a neat stop amongst the line-up of parents and parents' staff picking up the kids.

Tim: Haha sorry.  
Tim: But awesome. :)  
Tim: I'll pick you up?

The door swung open before Marco could reply. Tim shut the screen and greeted his niece with a smile.

"Uncle Tim, you won't believe what happened today!" she said.

"Hi, Angel," Tim said as he started the car once more. His phone continued to buzz, but he paid it little attention. Angel filled him in on the latest frontline news from Google's science page. Something about the ice on Europa, and NASA's latest attempts to land a rover on the surface of Jupiter's moon.

It wasn't until they got back to Jack's home, and Angel had run off to do her homework, that Tim finally looked at his cell. The light, easy feeling he'd been riding since he asked Marco out that evening dissipated, replaced by something warmer and less comfortable.

Rhys had been texting him.

Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: This is the most boring thing I have ever had to do and it is your fault  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: Did you know that before you started I never had time for these meetings  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: But you had to be so efficient and now I have department heads asking for blocks in my schedule that should have been filled with stuff I had fallen behind on  
Tim: Are you seriously texting in the middle of the all-hands?  
Tim: how is that professional?  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: It is fine no one can see me  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: I am texting you with the power of my mind and also my Echo Eye  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: To everyone here I just look as if I am really interested and focused on what they are saying to me  
Tim: you're using your EYE??  
Tim: gross  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: Awesome  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: You have misspelled awesome  
Tim: i can't believe this is what you're doing with your time rn  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: Where is Angel should not you be with her right now  
Tim: she's doing her homework  
Tim: what happened to all your apostrophes  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: The eye works better without contractions  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: I am basically mentally dictating  
Tim: GROSS  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: This technology costs billions to develop Tim  
Tim: creepy and gross  
Rhys is Smarter, Handsomer, AND Cooler Than You: Wrong  
Tim: hold on i'm updating your name 

"Uncle Tim!" Angel's voice carried from the other room. "Are we bringing snacks to the zoo? Can we bring strawberry mango juice? And can we not bring the kale bombs?"

Tim realised with a mildly guilty start that he'd been sitting at the kitchen island for the last twenty minutes, texting a man who he wasn't even dating.

"Focus on your work, Angel," he said, getting to his feet. He opened the chrome fridge and went digging for those coconut date things again. He stuffed a few glass bottles of red-pink juice under his arm, barely noticing their labels.

His phone buzzed again. Tim resisted for a few minutes while he spread pistachio butter and homemade blackberry preserves onto slices of seed bread, but he couldn't hold on for any longer. Licking pistachio butter from his fingers, he opened his phone with one hand.

Rhys is Creepy and Gross: You are an immature hobgoblin  
Tim: :)  
Rhys is Creepy and Gross: I wish I could say I cannot believe you would do this  
Rhys is Creepy and Gross: But I know you better  
Tim: pay attention to your meeting, boss  
Tim: all of those people get paid a lot to bore you 

Tim shut the screen off and nothing came after that. He supposed Rhys was doing just what Tim suggested. Tim finished preparing their sandwiches, and stuffed everything into a reusable lunch sack. Angel came stomping into the room almost an hour after he'd sent her to her work station. She skidded to a stop, grabbed the bag from Tim's hand, and told him the exact order she would like to visit the animal enclosures in while she reviewed the contents of their afternoon snack.

"Pistachios and blackberry," Tim said helpfully while she held up one of the sandwiches, wrapped up in reusable waxed paper.

"Okay," she said, dropping it back in the bag. "Kind of weird, though."

"Give me a break, I couldn't find the peanut butter."

"Too many kids are allergic to peanuts. We don't have any in the house. Does Rhys like pistachios?"

Tim put his hand on the small of Angel's back and lead her back outside. "He does, but he's not coming today."

"Why not?"

"He's busy. I've invited another friend of mine, though." Tim hesitated, realizing for the first time that maybe he should've asked her first before rushing into the invite. Why hadn't he waited? It hadn't even occurred to him. He'd simply gone straight from Rhys' polite dismissal straight to Marco. Like he'd been running.

"I hope that's okay," Tim said. It was fine. Tim was an expert at pretending everything was fine and normal.

"Yeah, it's okay," Angel said as she climbed into the passenger side. "Is it your boyfriend?"

Tim shut the door. He ignored his phone's buzzing.

* * *

Rhys is Better Than You in Every Way: I'm free!  
Rhys is Better Than You in Every Way: And everything looks good  
Rhys is Better Than You in Every Way: I can make it out tonight after all  
Rhys is Better Than You in Every Way: If you're still offering

* * *

Tim stood off to the side of the path, taking shelter in the small amount of shade offered by the poplars and ash trees that lined either side.

He watched Angel sidle her way closer to the tiger pen, pushing through the crowds of small children and strollers.

He kept his phone against his ear, still uncool enough to forego hands-free devices, while he listened to the sound of Rhys breathing on the other end.

"You can still come out," Tim said. "It's not a big deal. Marco's just—"

 _"I can be accused of a lot of things, Tim, but I'm not the sort of guy to cut in on someone else's date,_ " Rhys said. Cool and composed. Almost amused. Untouchable once more.

Tim felt like he'd swallowed a pint of rotten ice cream, cold and curdling in his stomach. He looked over to Angel, watched her point at something while Marco stood faithfully by her side.

"It's not—" he tried.

_"Tim, relax. I'll see you Monday, alright? You don't get to leave early next week, either, so you better come prepared."_

"I'll try," Tim said.

_"Good. See you then."_

Rhys hung up before Tim could respond.

* * *

"You okay?" Marco touched the space between Tim's shoulder blades, a light brush he could barely feel. "You seem a little down."

"Uncle Tim, can we see the savannah exhibit next?" Angel had run ahead once again, bouncing past all the strollers, all the slow-moving kids with short legs and hands sticky from melting ice cream. "We talked about this, we said it's best if we go to the savannah after we see the tigers! We have to compare the Indian tigers to the African lions!"

"She's quite the little firecracker," Marco said. He had such a nice smile. Tim liked the way it made his dark eyes crinkle, the way it made all the small lines around his mouth look deeper.

"She's got more energy than I've ever seen in someone that size," Tim said. He liked Marco's smile best when it was aimed at him.

"She's sweet." Marco bumped his shoulder. "I'm glad you asked me to join you both. I'm having fun."

"Yeah, me too."

Tim wasn't like Jack. He didn't practise his smiles, he didn't have an arsenal of fakes at his disposal, ready to devastate any potential onlookers. Ready to make someone blush, or to make them think about running. Tim only had what he could come up with in the moment. He always hoped it would be enough.

This time, it wasn't. Marco's smile shrank. "You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Of course," Tim said and, dammit, he sounded defensive. Marco looked like he wanted to ask more, but Tim took him by the hand and lead him on. "We should pick up the pace. Angel will leave us if we're being too slow."

He was fine. This was a good thing. Marco was a good person, and Tim needed to be better for him. This wouldn't be a problem unless Tim made it a problem.

He took Marco's hand more gently in his, slowed them both down just a little outside of the lemur pavilion. Tim leaned in and stole a quick kiss.

"I'm really glad you're here," he told him. It was like a magic trick, and Marco's smile came back in full-force. It looked so good that Tim couldn't help but kiss him again.

* * *

"I heard you brought your new slice to the zoo."

Jack was waiting for them when they returned to the house, dressed in his work-out sweats on the sofa, a can of beer in his hand and a damp towel draped over his forehead.

Angel had run off after giving her dad a quick peck on the temple, eager to recreate some of the movement she'd witnessed from the running cheetahs at the zoo in her VR simulations. Tim had dropped Marco off after their Korean BBQ dinner. He felt grateful neither of them were within earshot.

"Charming." Tim's beer opened with a hissing crack. "Who told you?"

"I hacked the secrets from the Pentagon." Jack wasn't even looking at the screen, which appeared to be turned to a channel showing three women drinking wine in the back of a limo and arguing about signature scents.

"Angel told you." Tim hopped over the back of the couch and took the seat beside Jack.

"Angel told me." Jack turned his head towards Tim, moving as few muscles as he could get away with. "Marco, huh?"

"He's nice," Tim said.

"What's he do?"

"He works for the Pentagon, strangely enough."

"Look, you can either cut the comedy routine and answer my questions, or I can hack into his Facebook account and find out everything I need to, and then I'll post a status update about how you like to be called 'snugglebug'."

"I do like to be called snugglebug."

Jack glared at Tim, but Tim knew he was safe. Post-workout, Jack was essentially a lump of sore muscles and dulled rage. Even if he wasn't, Tim had spent almost ten years getting his body into fighting shape, while Jack spent it building machines, writing reports, and sitting in on meetings. The workout routine had started only in the last year, and only because Jack's doctor had some concerns about his cholesterol levels.

"You know, your protective big brother shtick was cute when we were twelve, but it's gotten old."

Jack continued glaring. Tim sighed. He was stronger than Jack, true, but that didn't mean he wasn't a push-over.

"His name is Marco Ortega, he works at the flagship location of the Springs Mechanics and Repair Auto Shoppe."

"What's his favourite drink?"

"Local craft brew IPAs."

Jack's mouth twisted, but he let that slide. "What's he do for fun? And if you say 'you', I am going to lock you in the basement and cut off his dick."

"Again, this whole overly-protective thing is creepy now that we're in our 30s."

Jack groaned. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

"It's not so bad." Tim put his feet up. The television changed channels, bringing them to a professional wrestling show. "I kind of like the way my third decade is turning out."

"You would," Jack said.

"You're only as old as you feel, Jack."

Jack moved his arm, a process that took a while, to rub the skin under his damp towel. "Every time I complete a session with Wil, I feel like I'm about 60."

"You sound like it, too."

Jack managed to regain enough strength to swat at Tim, a clumsy blow he easily dodged. "Ingrate. Tell me about your stupid boyfriend before I post hardcore furry porn on all his social media."

Tim blanched. "We're not— We've only gone out a few times," he said. Jack's brow furrowed.

"You're telling me you brought him out with my Angel and he's not even your fucking boyfriend?" Jack sounded frustrated and annoyed, both of which were good signs. Jack wearing his emotions on his sleeve meant he had nothing to hide, nothing to plot in secret. "How long have you idiots been dating?"

"Six weeks," Tim admitted.

"And you brought him to a family outing?" Now he sounded disgusted. "I waited almost a full year before I introduced Nisha to Angel and you couldn't wait until you went official?"

"It's different for you," Tim argued. "She's your daughter, it makes sense to be protective about introducing her to your partner."

"And Angel means so little to you that it doesn't matter?"

"You know that's not true," Tim said, flushing.

Jack's eyes narrowed. On screen, the crowd began to cheer as a count-out began. "You're right. I do know that. This whole situation seems pretty unusual for you, Tim."

His voice had gone calm, thoughtful. Tim stared at the screen.

"Way I see it, and knowing you as well as I do, there's two possibilities here. One, you are more serious about this Marco than you want to admit. Which would be strange, because you're the kind of guy who goes from zero to a bed covered in rose petals if you're really into someone."

Tim shifted, and took a pull on his beer. On screen, the wrestler escaped his count-out by throwing the other man across the ring.

"Or... You're trying to be more into this guy than you actually are. Faking intimacy to encourage real intimacy."

"I don't go from zero to... whatever when I like someone," Tim said.

Jack kicked his feet up onto the table, leaning back into the couch for a more comfortable position and began ticking off his fingers. "Sierra Bigfeet. Dated her for four months. Bought her a two-thousand-dollar promise ring. Thom With an H. Dated him for one month. Took him on a two-week trip to Europe." Jack looked over. "I could've predicted that break-up from a mile away."

Tim ran a hand down his burning face. "Alright, I get it."

"Really? Cause I can keep goin'. Gregor the Gregorian, your boyfriend when you were 23. Dated for three months and then you paid for his fuckin' rehab."

"He wanted to get clean," Tim muttered.

"You wonder why I get so protective. You're a serial monogamist with shitty taste, Tim." He examined Tim through narrowed eyes. "You used to be, anyway. Guess it's been a bit of a dry spell for you lately. Since you started that stupid job."

Tim said nothing. His face wouldn't cool down, and the buzz from the alcohol wasn't helping. Jack always did this. He wasn't wrong, exactly, but he looked at situations from the wrong angles.

It was true, Tim had been a bit desperate for affection, and maybe that had lead him to make some bad decisions, but that was the old him. And it was true that he'd been in a bit of a dry spell over the last year, but the way it lined up with his new job was only a coincidence. It wasn't as if he'd been doing a lot of dating while he worked with the Lance.

"So, I'm taking things slow with Marco. That's not bad." Tim took another drink. Jack didn't speak up. "I've grown up, Jack. I'm not that same dumb kid I used to be. You're the only one who doesn't see that," he said sourly.

Jack watched Tim without speaking. On screen, the crowd lost its mind as the manager entered the ring.

"I remember all those people you thought were good enough to be your partner, Tim. I remember all your mistakes. I remember that time you called me up with tears in your voice because Sierra was fucking other people behind your back, or that time you ended up driving all the way up to Massachusetts to stay with me because Thom threatened to strangle you in your sleep. Your stupid heart gets you into more trouble than I ever did," Jack said.

"God." Tim finished his beer.

"And now you're trying to hide something from me. I think I've got a pretty good idea what it might be," he went on. "If I'm right, then you're being a real fucking idiot and you're gonna get burned real bad, real soon, if you don't smarten up."

Tim hunched over his empty bottle, staring determinedly at the screen. He felt the cushions shift as Jack lay his arm across the back of the couch.

"You're so lucky you've got me to keep an eye on you," Jack said, pressing the pad of his thumb against the back of Tim's heated neck.

* * *

Tim left an hour later with a headache and a sour feeling in his stomach. All that old history, dug up anew. Thanks for that, Jack.

Jack had to overthink everything. There wasn't any hidden meaning behind their trip to the zoo. Tim just needed to relax. It took an embarrassing amount of therapy to figure it out, but Jack couldn't get into his head unless he let him in.

You're gonna get burned if you don't smarten up.

As he lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, Tim thought about Rhys wearing his floral-print socks, standing in his kitchen, watching Tim.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i wrote 17k words and these two nerds don't even kiss.
> 
> sorry this one took forever to come out. i didn't want to publish it until i had an idea for the next installment. which i do, now, thankfully. 
> 
> as always, feel free to hassle me over on my [tumblr](https://nothingbutchaff.tumblr.com/).


End file.
